Barton - An Unexpected Blessing
One day when I took my son to McDonald's, I ran into a young boy who looked very familiar to me obviously one of the many students I’ve taught over the years. I asked him what class I had taught him in and he mentioned a 1st grade class I had done a long-term sub in.
My memories of that class were far from wonderful. It hadn’t been the kids. They had been awesome. What had driven me crazy was the teacher I was covering for. She was out on disability, yet continually checked up on me. She gave me a Mothers’ Day gift for the kids to make, which the students found so difficult, I ended up having to call them back one on one to help complete. She even came in and redid one of the student's. His name was Barton, of whom she complained could do nothing right. To go along with these gifts were fancy cards she insisted upon which had to be laid out and glued just so. Well guess who did all the gluing? Forgot about teaching the curriculum as we worked on this card which I heard later were at the 5th grade level. I was so excited to put them into bags and simply staple them close but no. I was told to punch holes in the bags so they could put in yarn and tie bows. I almost went ballistic, but she assured me that 1st graders could tie bows. Well, needless to say, I spent 20 minutes of my precious curriculum time tying bows for all 20 of my students.
I remembered how the teacher would always ask negatively about Barton. She described him as a real problem, but I just found him cute and acting like any boy that age, including my own son who was that age. So, I just threw it off as personalities not clicking.
When I asked the student at McDonald’s his name, it was indeed Barton. He was now in 5th grade. I met his Dad who told me they had moved away to another school district. When I told him that I had been a long-term sub for his 1st grade class, the father said something that truly flabbergasted me. He told me how Barton had always hated 1st grade until a long-term sub came –me. He told me how Barton was excelling at the new school. He thanked me – yet I wanted to thank him.
Suddenly I could let go of all the agony of that micro-managing teacher; the hideous Mothers Day project that I had laid too many nights awake worrying about; along with the two weeks of lesson plans I had to write for her return.
I had made the difference in one child’s life and that made up for all the hardships I had endured in this assignment. It was a moment of grace, which taught me that even in the most unpleasant of times God can use us.
My memories of that class were far from wonderful. It hadn’t been the kids. They had been awesome. What had driven me crazy was the teacher I was covering for. She was out on disability, yet continually checked up on me. She gave me a Mothers’ Day gift for the kids to make, which the students found so difficult, I ended up having to call them back one on one to help complete. She even came in and redid one of the student's. His name was Barton, of whom she complained could do nothing right. To go along with these gifts were fancy cards she insisted upon which had to be laid out and glued just so. Well guess who did all the gluing? Forgot about teaching the curriculum as we worked on this card which I heard later were at the 5th grade level. I was so excited to put them into bags and simply staple them close but no. I was told to punch holes in the bags so they could put in yarn and tie bows. I almost went ballistic, but she assured me that 1st graders could tie bows. Well, needless to say, I spent 20 minutes of my precious curriculum time tying bows for all 20 of my students.
I remembered how the teacher would always ask negatively about Barton. She described him as a real problem, but I just found him cute and acting like any boy that age, including my own son who was that age. So, I just threw it off as personalities not clicking.
When I asked the student at McDonald’s his name, it was indeed Barton. He was now in 5th grade. I met his Dad who told me they had moved away to another school district. When I told him that I had been a long-term sub for his 1st grade class, the father said something that truly flabbergasted me. He told me how Barton had always hated 1st grade until a long-term sub came –me. He told me how Barton was excelling at the new school. He thanked me – yet I wanted to thank him.
Suddenly I could let go of all the agony of that micro-managing teacher; the hideous Mothers Day project that I had laid too many nights awake worrying about; along with the two weeks of lesson plans I had to write for her return.
I had made the difference in one child’s life and that made up for all the hardships I had endured in this assignment. It was a moment of grace, which taught me that even in the most unpleasant of times God can use us.
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